Without thinking, Tessa looked down at the blue dress and gave the skirts a shake. She raised her hand to squeeze her cheeks but felt her own natural flush even through her gloves. She was just about to wave but Joseph turned his head, and their eyes locked. Tessa’s hand froze. He quickened his pace and scanned her appearance as he walked. His eyes moved up and down her body like fingers on a pianoforte, from high C to low A, and her body responded as if he’d touched her. She heard the music in her head.
“I worried you might arrive before us, and now you have,” he said when he reached her.
“We made excellent time,” she told him. Such mundane conversation, when what she really wanted to do was launch herself at him. She wondered idly if they would discuss the weather. Or the crowd.
We’ve done it,she wanted to exclaim.We’ve movedbeyond. You know about Christian and I’ve docked your boat, and we’re here, together, on a beautiful night.
We’ve started again.
Joseph held out one large, gloved hand and Tessa’s breath caught. She placed her fingers over his, and he bowed. She stared down at the tussle of sandy blond hair, thrilled by the propriety of the gesture. When his head came up, she tightened her fingers, unwilling to let him go. Joseph looked at her, a question in his blue eyes.
Yes,she wanted to say.And why not?
She was just about to slide her hand down his wrist and tuck it into the crook of his arm when Jon Stoker caught up.
“Stoker, mate,” Joseph said, almost as if he’d forgotten he’d arrived with his friend. He looked at Tessa. “Sabine is...?”
“Oh... she was very impatient to see inside, I’m afraid.” Tessa glanced apologetically at Stoker. “She has bought a ticket and gone ahead.”
Mr. Stoker said nothing, but his eyes went narrow and hard. He nodded slowly, once, twice, and began backing away.
“Stoke, no—don’t go,” implored Joseph. “Come inside with Tessa and me and have a look around. She’s inside, Tessa has just said as much.”
“This,” said Stoker, still backing up, “was a bad idea. As I knew it would be.”
Just then, a group of staggering young men broached the garden gate, their arm-and-arm progress heralded by whistles and two bars of a bawdy song in uneven harmony. An outlying man used his walking cane to lift the skirts of an unsuspecting young woman in his reach. The woman shrieked and skittered away while the men gave a cruel laugh.
Joseph mumbled a curse and stepped more closely to Tessa. Stoker paused in his retreat. He frowned at Joseph and closed his eyes. “How long?” he said.
“I beg your pardon?”
“How long has Sabine been alone inside?”
“Oh,” said Tessa, “Not so long. No more than ten minutes.”
Stoker nodded curtly and left them, crossing to the gates. He cut the queue, tossed a handful of coins at the ticket taker, and slipped inside.
“I implored her to wait,” Tessa told Joseph. “But she is very... conflicted about seeing him again.”
Joseph nodded. “He works hard to feign indifference, but he wanted to come.”
“Have the two of you been to Vauxhall before?”
Joseph looked down at her with an odd expression, like she’d ask him if he’d ever been to church or the market. “Many times. I don’t suppose there’s a chance you feel you’ve seen enough from here? That we might retire to a proper dinner—in Kensington, perhaps? With footmen to serve the talents of a French chef?”
She laughed. “No, I’m afraid not. I cannot wait to get inside.”
Chapter Sixteen
Joseph devoted so much thought to what he would say and do in Vauxhall Gardens, he’d made no assumptions about what Tessa would say or do.
The result was his brain wiped clean. He spoke very little. He reconciled himself to simply observing her.
No, notobserve.Observe was too passive and detached. Joseph wasrelishing her. How could he resist, when she twirled and laughed her way through wet flowers, torchlit pathways, dancers, pantomimes, and trained dogs.
How, he wondered, returning her dazzling smile with a thin, uncertain grin, had he not braced for Tessa’s joyfulness? He’d felt something very akin to love with her at Berymede because of little more than her joy.
The combination of fair hair, blue eyes, and splashy silks had also played some part, of course—he’d loved those too. Like a sneak attack, she’d trotted these out tonight. Gone were her horrible dresses and severe hair.
